Rewriting History
by ConnerWithARailgun
Summary: Yoshiko, a Reporter for the Pokémon News Press, finally gets her big break as a reporter when she is invited to cover the Crystal Island Tournament, an illustrious competition for Underdogs and Misfits world wide, that promises to rocket the winner into eternal fame and fortune. But as the competition progresses, Yoshiko starts to suspect something far more sinister at play.


**Rewriting History  
 **Prologue; The Sign Up****

* * *

Yoshiko wiped some sweat from her brow, as she stood in the Crystal Island Stadium's lobby. A native of the Kanto region, she wasn't used to the searing climate of the Orre Region, in which Crystal Island lay just off the coastline of the mainland.

An Asian woman of about 25. Yoshiko was short and very plump, a figure she had built up from 6 years of a desk job and free donuts. Yoshiko was not a Pokémon trainer. At age 19 she had gotten a job at the Kanto branch of the Pokémon News Press. She had been a fact checker, and this was her first assignment as a field reporter.

Crystal Island was once again hosting the Crystal Tournament. An all exclusive tournament, you could only get in by personal invitation, and those invitations were exclusive to the unknown gems of the world. The reclusive and seemingly ever-silent masterminds who ran the tournament seemed to have a knack for finding talented blood.

Being a professional Pokémon trainer was no easy feat. Prize money from battles didn't stretch far. In order to succeed in the game and avoid the life of a hermit, trainers often needed corporate sponsorship, and then they needed to take the title of a regional elite.

Those who succeeded in the Crystal Tournament were almost always skyrocketed to a spot in their region's Elite Four within months. And that's why Yoshiko was on Crystal Island, along with several other reporters.

 _Media coverage._

The Stadium's lobby was already filling up with the invited trainers. Somewhere surprisingly young, and some were almost elderly. The room was abuzz with a variety of genders, ethnicities, ages, and accents.

Of the millions upon billions of nobody trainers, only 64 were invited to take part in the tournament. By the digital read out on the tremendous tv screen, 57 had signed up so far. Wait…58. The number just went up.

 **Oof!**

Yoshiko's thoughts were interrupted by somebody bumping into her stomach. She looked down to see a very young girl, who looked to be about 9 years old.

"Geez, watch it would ya." The little girl snapped before wandering off. Yoshiko huffed. What a rude little girl.

The number had increased to 63. One left. Yoshiko looked at her watch. The reporters were all given a brief orientation on how the tournament was run, including what time the sign ups would shut. Whoever was left, they had 3 minutes.

"WAIT!" Came a cry from the far side of the hall. Whoever was running late, they were obviously trying their hardest to fight their way through the crowd of pokemon trainers. "Wait wait wait wait wait!"

And that was when Yoshiko first laid eyes on him. An awkward, scruffy looking guy, dressed like a metal-head, with a studded leather jacket and green Mohican haircut. He burst out of the crowd with panache…and stumbled and fell flat on his face. He quickly scrambled to his feet again, and bounced towards the front desk.

"I'm not too late, am I?" He asked. Yoshiko was slightly taken aback by his accent. It was incredibly Hoenn.

"No, you've got two minutes to spare. All you need to do is swipe your Trainer Card and show me your invitation and you're all set." Said the receptionist lady at the desk.

This was a mundane process seen many times today, but for some reason, Yoshiko couldn't help but keep her eyes on this final trainer. Her gut feeling was telling her to keep an eye on this trainer.

The big digital read out changed to 64, and suddenly there was a brilliant chime sound.

The room went quite, and the lights dimmed. Fog from a smoke machine began to cloud the room, and the Lobby's spotlights began to focus on a balcony platform above the crowd.

" _ **WWWWWEEEEEEELCOME! TO THE CRYSTAL TOURNEMANT!"**_

Yoshiko looked up to see the source of the noise, and her jaw dropped.

A woman, barely 17 years old. She was tall, slender, and had flowing pink hair. She wore a glittering golden dress, with ruby bangles and silver accessories.

It was Magenta Lawn! Actor, Pop Singer, Pokemon Co-ordinator, Radio Personality! She was THE celebrity. So famous that OTHER FAMOUS PEOPLE would pay millions for her autograph! SHE was the MC for the Tournament?

As expected, there was a flurry of flash photography from other reporters.

" _ **Hello my babies! It is I, Magenta LAWN!"**_ The shapely woman cried in her excited tone that only she could pull off. _**"And it my pleasure to announce that we have all 64 competitors for this year's CRYSTAL TOURNEMANT! WHOOOOOOO!"**_

The crowd, obviously pumped, erupted into cheers. Even Yoshiko herself couldn't help but feel extra pumped by all the energy.

" _ **Now, I cannot stay long my babies."**_ Magenta read off of her script. _**"But I cannot wait to see ALL of you fight with gusto tomorrow in the first round of the CRYSTAL TOURNEMANT. WOOOOOOOO!"**_

The was another applause.

" _ **Now, those of you who registered will have all received a welcome pack. Please find your room number and room key inside, along with your meal ticket and your map. Tomorrow's match ups will be announced here at 10 AM sharp, so don't be late. Until then, everybody has full use of our island's wonderful facilities! The training rooms! The 4-star buffet! The luxury spa! It's ALLLLLL for you my babies. WOOOOOO!"**_

The spotlights dimmed again, and the smoke machines blasted a thick flurry for Magenta to make her excited as the crowd cheered.

The excitement died down, and the crowd of trainers began to dissipate. Some went off to enjoy the training grounds. Some went to find the buffet. And some went off to check out the spa, among other various luxury venues the island had to offer.

Yoshiko and the other press members had their own quarters, and as long as they didn't enter the restricted areas, or enter the Trainers Quarters, they were also given access to the amenities. Yoshiko's considerable belly rumbled, and she began to dreamily fantasise about the buffet.

"Excuse me."

The voice snapped Yoshiko out of her fantasises. It was the guy from earlier, the biker. His thick Hoenn accent was unmistakable.

"Um, you wouldn't happen to know where the toilets are, would you?" The guy said, as he awkwardly tippy-toed from one foot to the other, as if he REALLY needed to go.

Yoshiko was slightly taken aback by the question, but nodded and pointed to the reception area.

"Just over there." She said, and the biker thanked her and ran off.

"Huh…strange guy." She thought, wondering if she was wrong about that guy.


End file.
